Together we Stand, Divided we Fall
by English Elite Group
Summary: Ever wanted to know more about the Founders of Hogwarts? About how it all began? Now you can! Thanks to the members of English Elite you may now read their story, and share their laughter and tears. Enjoy!
1. A Lonely Gentleman

**A Lonely Gentleman  
**_By Members of English Elite  
Plotted by Pen D. Fox  
Written by Alexia S. Luclwit  
Betas: FlooCrookshanks and Tobias Glass_

* * *

Rowena Ravenclaw hadn't expected the Three Broomsticks to be as full as it was. In fact, she hadn't really expected anyone to be here on such an awful night, what with the blizzard-like winds and deep s went about his reading, occasionally scratching down notes.

She took the time to study him, having seen him in here a few times before at one of the back tables. He had silky-looking black hair that contrasted greatly against his pale skin and green eyes. He was lean, and his hands had long fingers. Elegant fingers; writer fingers; whispered her mind. She3E  
She took the time to study him, having seen him in here a few times before at one of the back tables. He had silky-looking black hair that contrasted greatly against his pale skin and green eyes. He was lean, and his hands had long fingers. Elegant fingers; writer fingers; whispered her mind. She squashed such mental ponderings but after momentarily concentrating on her cocoa the thoughts returned.He looked like he would be excellent with a wand if his writing had anything to say in the matter; his words flew over the page and the pause to dip for ink seemed something of a habit for him; nothing to glance up about. She folded her hands on her lap and watched him write until her soup arrived and when he looked up there was no small amount of surprise in his green eyes.

  
"Milady, my deepest apologies," he stammered, "I have been working and—"

"No need," she assured him. "I was hoping not to distract you from something which you obviously seem to enjoy.""Enjoy, ah yes, you could call it that, although I think I do this more for the advantage." Rowena leaned in to see what it was that he had been working on, and found that the book itself was Latin; a spell book of old."Ah, Latin!" Rowena exclaimed, delighted. "Such an interesting pursuit; and anything really worth reading is written in it."He set aside the book and entwined his fingers around a mug of coffee, looking into it as though he could see something she couldn't. "Indeed they are; you wouldn't believe the many things I've found. I feel often as though I am breaking a law for all that I've learned."Rowena took a sip of her cocoa; scalding the roof of her mouth. "Of such fascinating subjects you speak, but I fear I know not your name."

"Salazar, and yours, fair lady?"

"Rowena," she said and extended her hand. He took it in his own and they shook. Without breaking his gaze she turned his hand in her own. "May I read of what the fortunes have etched in your palm?" Her voice had gone soft, knowing that she could see just about anything written in the lines of fate, but she had a genuine curiosity about this man. Her mother had taught her the symbols back in their mountain home, and she had pursued the study finding it near faultless in almost ever instance.Salazar inclined his head, and her gaze fell to the task before her. Here the lines traced a greatness such as her own, though she hadn't found hers yet and didn't think Salazar had found his either. She looked through a childhood rent with misfortune, grief and pain. His head line was extremely deep-set, letting her know that the man across from her would never let matters of love interfere with his intellectual pursuits. She also saw markings for a steadfast manner; Salazar was one never likely to be swayed from an opinion. She didn't know it then, but it was that trait that would begin their assent to glory, and be their fall from it. When she let go he once more encircled his mug with his fingers."And what do my hands reveal to you, Rowena of the mountain heights?" His eyes glinted with mirth of his own. She chose not to make note of the fact that he had learned something of her without her giving a reason for it."I see arthritis, but in one so young it makes me wonder."Salazar set out his hands before him. "I am only bothered by it in the winter, no more than that," he replied, lifting his hands away from the mug and rubbing his right palm with his thumb. Behind him a ruckus broke out; the men whooped and one stood, sweeping a small mound of gold into a purse. The others around him either raged, or laughed far too hard to care about the proceedings. Salazar flashed his hand as a gesture of congratulations, and the winner of the night's round gave Salazar a hearty grin."Salazar, I've beaten them once more, ah the luck! It pours forth from me like water!"

  
"Ah, I wish it were but so for me, Godric. You're going to empty the coffers of Hogsmeade before you leave; you know."

"I don't think I will leave, not now; I have grown to love the country up here. There is nothing to equal a dawn over the snow, the crisp air and the constant blizzard."Both Rowena and Salazar shuddered at such enthusiasm for rugged weather as Godric rounded the tables to greet them both. They shook hands, and Rowena saw in him a boisterous confidence that seemed to make the room brighter for the presence. He waved over a barmaid and placed an order for three bottles of rum, paid for them, and let his gaze follow the woman until she was behind the bar. After a minute his attention returned to them and he looked over Salazar's book brows furrowing. "This looks like yet another lovely bunch of indecipherable nonsense," he waved one hand at the book, "yet again. You'll die an early death, thinking about that stuff.""Actually," he stopped taking his notes for a moment, "I intend to save others from that fate, and it seems that I have found a fellow conspirator in the Lady Ravenclaw here." He pointed his quill pen at her.Rowena smiled and lifted her hands to the barmaid who had returned with their order of drinks. Salazar followed suit and Godric took a deep swig of his own. All three of them talked until closing, taking no note of the passing of the hours and eventually went their separate ways, but not before exchanging addresses to send owls with letters to arrange for further meetings.It seemed to Rowena, as she opened the pub's door and stepped out into the bitter cold; perhaps her original venture into the blizzard was worth the safe haven of the tavern and the meeting of her new friends. 


	2. Making Aquaintances

**Chapter 2: Making Aquaintences**

_By Members of English Elite  
Written by ArturoOrcino  
Betas: FlooCrookshanks,  
Alexia S. Luclwit and Tobias Glass_

* * *

It was snowing, the sky dark overhead, ominous black clouds billowing in from the north. Truly a horrible time to be outside, even those who revelled in darkness were driven indoors by the fierceness of the storm. And yet two weary wanderers, heavily cloaked and swathed, supported their weight on hand-cut twin staves and trudged along in the knee-high slush that was often referred to as a "road" by the locale. They struggled on for what seemed like forever, hoods blown back by the screaming voice of the wind more chilling than a banshee's wail. Time itself was lost in the driving force of the blizzard. A hailstone the size of a Bludger struck a crooked sign at the base of a hill. The sign was barely legible in the dancing, flickering flame of a lantern:

**Travler's Welkum  
To Yellownale's Hosstell**

Next to the sign, a cobblestone path covered with ice meandered up the hill, seemingly with no purpose, but in truth it led to a building. Another hailstone sliced through the air and struck a dead and dilapidated pine, effectively felling it. A branch, made brittle by the bitter cold, snapped off as the tree fell to the ground with a crash. Hurtling through the air, the branch landed at the feet of the two wanderers.

At the base of the hill, the two figures paused and looked up at the forbidding silhouette of the building, looming large and mysterious in their vision, with not a flicker of candlelight leaking out from between the boarded up windows to betray the fact that a living soul dwelled there.Finally, the taller figure coughed, brought a slightly trembling hand up to his mouth, and, barely audible over the whistle of falling snow, said, "There it is, Rowena. The hostel the Three Broomsticks' bartender spoke of." Adding to himself in a venomous whisper, "Although now I am regretting that I ever gave that fool money for his 'valuable information.'"Rowena shivered, and said to her companion, "Yes, Salazar, this can only be the hostel. Supposedly, this was the only place that had more than one room available, although I wish it wasn't so dreary. Still, we can only hope that what the bartender said was true." She shivered again.Salazar looked down at his shaking companion and whispered, "Come, Rowena. Let us go and warm ourselves by a fire... if there _is_ one."The two then continued up the hill and up the pathway, halting at a single, battered door on the porch. Behind them, hailstones started to fall with increasing frequency. Rowena glanced nervously at them, and moved closer in towards the door. Salazar reached out a hand towards the doorknob, but the door noiselessly swung open before he could touch it.Salazar beckoned to Rowena to go first and she smiled a tired smile at his show of gentlemanly manners. Giving a nod of thanks to her friend, Rowena glided through the door......and gasped in awe as she drank in the delicious sights and smells of the lobby. Salazar, ducking through the doorway, stood stunned as well. The two of them stared in awe at the magnificent view before them.Lush red carpeting covered the floor, and beautiful tapestries sprawled out over the walls as a fire crackled merrily in the hearth. Comfortable chairs and couches were scattered all across the room, and the curtains pulled over the windows were made of the finest velvet money could buy. Scented candles lined the walls, shedding wavering light on the room and filling the air with uplifting fragrances. Rowena and Salazar both deeply inhaled the fragrance and immediately felt their worries disappearing, their limbs loosening, and their aches and pains vanishing."Good that stuff, isn't it?" asked a gruff but friendly voice from the hallway. Rowena and Salazar whirled around to face this unknown threat, but they relaxed when they saw it was just an old wizard, accompanied by a scrawny goblin. "Pleased to meet you, folks! I'm...oh...what was that name again?" The old wizard turned to his goblin companion. "Yellownale, what's my name?"Salazar started with surprise. "Yellownale?" he asked of the wizard in front of him. "But I thought you were Yellownale, sir!"The old wizard chuckled. "Yellownale indeed!" He sounded amused. "You young whippersnappers! Always kidding around!" He began to chuckle, and then started to laugh loudly. Rowena and Salazar exchanged a quick glance. Obviously the poor old man is ill, thought Rowena."Yellownale! Hah!" The old wizard choked, doubled over with laughter. "You...think I'm...Yellownale!" He finally regained control over himself and straightened back up, wheezing. The goblin tugged on his companion's patched and tattered purple and green robes, and then whispered in the old man's ear when he bent down to the goblin's level."Ah-ha! I knew it!" The old man shouted triumphantly. Turning back to Rowena and Salazar, he introduced himself with an extravagant bow (which caused his precariously perched hat to fall off his head). "Miles Mooke Flonatt at your service!" Noticing his hat on the rug in front of him, he lunged for it and missed as the hat magically floated up to his head level. Grumbling about unreliable hats, Miles lifted himself off the floor and dusted himself off. Grabbing the hat floating in front of his face, he jammed it on his head and right over his eyes."Help me! I've gone blind! This stupid hat's blinded me!" He shouted, wandering about and feeling at the air in front of him. Rowena and Salazar glanced at first Miles, then each other, and bit down hard on their bottom lips to avoid laughing at the comical picture the old man presented.Miles stopped in the middle of the room and let his arms limply fall to his sides. "It's no use," he groaned. "I've been blinded by this accursed hat!" Tears started to fall from underneath the brim of the hat and muffled sobs were heard. Staring at his master, the goblin shook his small head and plodded over. Grabbing a firm hold on the point of the hat, the goblin heaved with all his strength and staggered backward as the hat came off of the wizard's head with a small 'pop'.Miles sat down in disbelief. "Yellownale, how did you cure me?" he asked dumbly. Yellownale just smiled sadly at him and shook his head, then beckoned to Salazar and Rowena, now barely concealing broad smiles behind their hands, to follow him. Yellownale started off down the hallway and stopped at two doors at the end. Pointing into one, he motioned for Rowena to go in, and then shooed Salazar into the other before rejoining his master in the lobby.Before closing the door, Salazar looked across the hall to Rowena's room. He saw her eyes droop with exhaustion, and he felt himself yawn against his will. Yawning again, he managed to get out, "Good night, Rowena," before closing the door and falling onto the feather-stuffed bed. Burrowing down into the soft silk sheets, Salazar sighed with happiness, glad to be warm at last. Mulling over the previous day's events, he didn't realize that he was slowly drifting off to sleep.Godric Gryffindor woke up to find the fire in his room had gone out, leaving the stone floor icy cold and the window covered with frost. Complaining about non-magical fires to himself, he grabbed his wand from the bedside table and waved it at the fireplace. Instantly, a blazing fire erupted in the middle of the room, igniting an old wooden chair. Godric leapt out of bed in his pyjamas with an oath and frantically beat at the flames with his pillow, only to find that it, too, was burning. Swearing loudly, he hurriedly began to put the fire out with magic before it caused too much damage. Unfortunately, he was a bit over-enthusiastic with the water, and everything in the rented room was soon drenched - including him. Standing there in his too-tight pajamas with his red hair plastered flat to his head and burly body drenched, Godric had to take several deep breaths to avoid cursing the wretched place into oblivion. Finally regaining control of himself, he stomped over to the chest at the end of the bed, opened it, and pulled out clean – if slightly damp – red robes. Squeezing his large and muscular body into the clothes, he then stalked out of the room, slamming the door behind him with a loud crash, which caused owls in the rafters to ruffle their feathers in annoyance.Walking out into the pub of the Three Broomsticks, Godric spotted a young maid armed with a mop and wand hurrying towards him."Excuse me, sir, but might you be Godric Gryffindor?" She begged, shifting nervously from one foot to the other."Indeed I am, young lady," Godric declared. "How may I assist you?""Oh, sir," the maid responded, "There is a fierce owl pecking and screeching at anyone who approaches it, yet it bears your name on the letter it carries."Godric looked at the girl, perplexed. "My name? Surely there must be some mistake!" he exclaimed, looking hopefully at her for an explanation.I'm sorry, good sir," she said regretfully, but the letter clearly has 'Godric Gryffindor' written on the front. There can be no mistake." Godric's face fell."Who could it be?" he wondered aloud, thoughtfully tapping his chin with his wand, which caused his short beard to elongate and curl. "I it be?" He rushed past the girl, his face boyish with excitement. He ran into the owlery connected to the pub and gave a great shout of delight at the sight which greeted his eyes."Milanda, my old friend!" Godric held out his arm to the great horned owl, beaming with joy. The owl swooped down from the rafter it had been perched on and landed on Godric's arm. Chuckling softly to himself, Godric quickly untied the letter addressed to him from Milanda's leg, and then gently stroked the owl's regal head."And how is Helga doing, hm?" He asked the bird. In reply, the bird nudged at the letter with her beak. "Ah, of course – the letter. Up you get, then," Godric said, lowering his arm with the owl still attached to a table. Milanda hopped off and started to preen as Godric started to read:_Dear Godric,  
  
How have you been? I've been fine, except for a bout of dragon pox. It was nothing serious, just a mild case. How is Salazar doing? I know that he hates the cold, and that it affects his arthritis. Poor dear.........  
Godric, I will be in Hogsmeade today on business. I would love to see you and Salazar, if it could be arranged. I will be arriving at 7:30 a.m. and hope to see you in front of the Post Office!  
  
Sincerely yours,  
Helga Hufflepuff_"Seven thirty? In the _morning_? Is she _mad_?" Godric read with disbelief. "I must hurry if I am to meet her!" he exclaimed, running to the door. He glanced out of the window and said thoughtfully, "Perhaps I ought to shield myself..." Whipping out his wand, he pointed it at himself and hollered, "_Percalefactus!_"He was immediately enveloped in a shield of hot air that circumvented his whole body. "Well, this wasn't what I wanted," He puffed, sweat streaming down his face, "But it will work!"And with that, Godric opened the door and struggled out into the blizzard.Helga Hufflepuff stood inside the Post Office, tapping her foot impatiently. She stared out into the swirling snow, hoping for some sign of either Godric or Milando. Twirling her hair around her short black hair, she fidgeted with the buttons on the front of her coat in impatience. They were a tad bit tight anyways, for Helga had a fondness for sweets that showed, no matter how much she tried to conceal it. Her face was kind, even motherly, though now it was filled with impatience and worry. Straining her eyes to see through the curtain of white outside, she breathed a sigh of relief as she spotted a red-haired man wade through the snow to the Post Office's front door.The door opened, and an icy wind wailed around the room until the door was shut with difficulty. Helga stepped forward and hugged the man who had braved the elements to see her."Godric Gryffindor, you haven't changed a bit!" She laughed, craning her head back to see the big man's face. "Still as impulsive as ever!"Godric smiled down at her. "And you, fair Helga, remain the same as last I saw you!"The two friends then briefly embraced. Gazing up at her tall companion, Helga asked, "And how is Salazar? I noticed he wasn't with you, poor man. This cold must be terrible on his arthritis.""Salazar is well, very well in fact. I will be meeting with him shortly, if you wish to come along," Godric replied. "I know he shall be overjoyed to see you!"Despite Helga's apparent level-headedness, she was nearly as impetuous as Godric. "What are we waiting for, then?" she demanded eagerly, grabbing her suitcase. "The storm's dying, so let's go!"Godric shook his head at her enthusiasm. "As you wish, Helga," he replied with a smile. He opened the door again, and they both headed out into the slowly ceasing winds and snow.

  
Rowena awoke to the pleasant aroma of sausage and pancakes with a tantalizing hint of pumpkin juice. Stretching, she sat up and breathed in the new day's promise. Lowering herself out of the four-poster bed, she padded over on silent feet to the tray of breakfast foods, carefully balanced on the small writing desk. Sitting down, she assaulted breakfast vigorously, and then got up to wash the previous night's dirt out of her hair. She dressed herself in a short blue dress, and saw Salazar leaving his room as she stepped into the hallway and closed the door behind her. From the looks of it he too had washed and eaten, and he was dressed in flowing black robes.

"Good morning!" she chirped, happy for no particular reason."Good morning, Rowena," he replied in his usual whisper. "How was your night? Well, I take it?""It was fine, Salazar. The best I've had in a long time. And you?""Just as yours was fine, so too was mine. I did wake up early, however. I couldn't leave my spell books for long. But enough of that," he said. "Let us go meet Godric and his companion, hm?" And without waiting for a reply he strode off down the corridor, leaving Rowena speechless with wonder."How does he know when someone is coming and where they are from?" She mumbled to herself. Giving her mind a mental shake to clear it, she glanced out of a window and saw that the blizzard had finally snowed itself out. Humming happily, she made her way to the lobby.A very strange scene met her eyes when she walked into the room. Salazar, Godric, and a woman she did not know stood in a semi-circle around the old wizard Miles Flonatt. She looked first at Godric, then at Salazar, questioning them with her eyes, but she could tell from the expressions on their faces that they knew nothing. As she looked into the other woman's eyes, however, a voice in her mind whispered, Helga Hufflepuff. She blinked, and started when Miles addressed her: he had his back to her, so how could he have known she was there?"**So nice of you to join us at last, Miss Ravenclaw.**" His voice was strangely choral and rasping; it had lost its humorous quality that had filled it the night before. Now it was filled with an ancient power, one beyond the comprehension of all. Goosebumps raised on Rowena's arms as she stepped forward to complete the circle around the old mage.Miles stood in the center of the group for a moment, then stepped out between Rowena and Helga. His eyes rolled back in his head until the whites were showing. He raised his arms above his head and four shimmering columns of light surrounded each of the four acquaintances; blue for Rowena, green for Salazar, yellow for Helga and Red for Godric. Miles began to sway back and forth, chanting as he did so:

**"Four Founders go forth**

**Each on their own quest **

**With much to learn about the others. **

**Their duty it is **

**To teach the young **

**What was not taught to their fathers and mothers. **

**Bold Gryffindor, I see your House **

**As one for courage and friendship untold. **

**Wise Ravenclaw, I charge your House **

**With keeping alive the knowledge of old. **

**Sly Slytherin, Your House shall be **

**The most demanding House of Four. **

**Fair Hufflepuff, Those in your House S**

**hall be like you forever more. **

**The road is long, **

**Your paths are hard, **

**But all of you must open the gate. **

**Support yourselves, **

**Support each other, **

**And you will found what is written in fate."**

Miles turned to the four friends and nodded to each one of them, he then gestured for his goblin friend to come out of the shadows. Yellownale ran to the old Seer and waved good-bye to the four dumbstruck companions even as he and Miles slowly vanished into thin air. All four of them stood gaping open-mouthed at the spot where the two mysterious figures had stood a moment before. Finally overcoming her shock, Helga pinched herself to assure herself that what she had just seen had actually happened. Finding it to be real, she walked around and snapped everyone else out of the confused stupor they were in. Once everyone was functioning again, she spoke out in a clear firm voice.

"Well, where do we go now? I mean, the Seer did tell us we were destined to do great things. So does anyone have any ideas?"Rowena tentatively raised her hand. "Well, he said we were supposed to teach...so we should probably go to a relatively large city where there will be more wizarding families, right?"Yes, like London," Salazar added. "I know several families of wizards there.""As do I," Godric said."That goes for me as well," Rowena slipped in.Helga looked at each of them in turn and saw their faces brighten at the mention of learning. Deep down inside, she knew she must look the same. She sighed, resigning herself to her fate. "All right." She smiled excitedly, looking forward to being a teacher. "Let's go to London!" 


	3. The Burning

**The Burning  
**_by Members of English Elite  
Written by Tobias Glass  
Betas: Alexia S. Luclwit, ArturoOrcino,  
FlooCrookshanks and DearladyFae_

* * *

London intrigued Rowena, interested Godric and Helga was soon as much as home as if she had lived there her whole life. Salazar hated it. They soon made contact with all of the wizarding families they each knew, and Godric managed to win several bets and arrange them a house in under two weeks of their arrival. "It's damp and mouldy," were the first words Salazar uttered on making his entrance into the house. Godric clapped him on the back. "Nonsense, we'll have this place fit for royalty in under a week!" That night Salazar took a quill and parchment and secluded himself in his 'room'. The bed didn't sit evenly on the floor, and the windows were so dirty that nothing could be seen of the outside. He proceeded to pen down the list of things that needed attention.

_Grimy Windows  
Pixies in the closets  
Snails in the kitchen  
Doxies – Everywhere  
Nesting Flies upstairs  
Spiders – poisonous  
Mould on the curtains  
Knarls – Must Die  
Tub Leaks  
Sink's Rusty  
Attic Leaks  
Stairs creak – Highly Annoying  
Bathroom door fell off  
Jobberknolls – Good for Potions  
Woodlice – Clean Method???  
Bundimuns – Floorboard Wrench  
Must. Purchase. Darvy. Gnomes. Are. In. The. **House!!!**  
Filthy Floors, I think they are stone or wood under all that.  
Dust and more Dust_

Salazar paused in his work to rub at his eyes; his vision was blurring from trying to write in the near-darkness. With a 'puff' the lantern went out, and the room was submerged in total darkness.

"Bloody Hell."

------------

Rowena was up before the sun; attacking the floors with vicious flicks of her wand. A cloud of dirt followed her from room to room and the grime was magically shorn from the woodwork. Behind her the wooden floor could be seen, bright as though freshly cut. Two hours later she banished the mess, now a foot deep, out the door with a hoarse yell. Then, wiping sweat- dampened strands of hair from her face; she entered the kitchen to pour a glass of mead from the keg Godric had managed to obtain. It was lukewarm. She left the glass on the counter with a frown.

This house definitely needed work. She glanced at the window, so indeed buried in slime that it shed not a light. Rowena murmured "_Scourgify_" and was amazed when the spell had almost no effect. Biting her lip, she yanked the catch and the window crashed open; making the wall shudder. Glass shards tinkled down around her.

"Bloody Hell."

"What happened?" Godric asked, stepping into the kitchen in his nightclothes and dressing gown.

"Look up," Rowena said, waving her hand at the window and dropping into a chair, leaning her head against the wall and jerking away just as quickly. Several tiny ants poured out of a knot in the wood.

"I see," he mused, and then drew his wand, pointing it at the glass- littered floor. "_Reparo_." The shards levitated, paused as if wondering what to do, and then snapped back into place. Once they were back in place the crack lines didn't vanish.

"That looks oh-so very inconspicuous, Godric," Salazar noted sarcastically from the doorway.

"You do better then," Godric grouched in reply. Salazar flicked out his wand and hissed a spell under his breath. A second later colour began to inch through the different cracks, forming a stained glass window. With a final 'pop' black lead filled the cracks and it looked a lovely window. Colours danced along the now clean floor, and Rowena smiled at him.

"I've always wanted a stained glass window."

"I am glad to oblige, then. Now, I have made a list. I didn't finish it, as the lantern went out and I didn't want to bother with wand light." He dropped a piece of parchment on the table and poured a glass of mead. Rowena had begun reading when he started coughing.

"Warm...mead...Godric, we need provisions and soon." While saying this he went to the front door and sloshed the beverage out on the cobble stones.

------------

Salazar posted the list—now growing whenever one of them found something amiss—in every room. They crossed out the floors once Godric had polished them with magic and they were the cleanest part of the house. Helga went into the market square to purchase various foods and other items. Salazar sealed up a cabinet and they used it to keep the drinks cold. All was going well until it came around to the cleaning of the doxies.

"So, target-practice, and their bite is poisonous." Godric said, as Helga inched towards the first set of slightly mouldered curtains.

"Exactly," Rowena said, with her wand at the ready. With a sharp jerk Helga shook the curtain and out flew the doxies. Red zaps shot from wands and doxies began to rain upon the floor. Ten minutes later the assault slowed and Godric's laughter filled the room.

"That's great sport; we should save some for future classes!"

"Indeed yes, it's wonderful fun," Helga agreed, polishing her wand with her skirt. Rowena had a wide grin and turned to see Salazar's opinion on the matter but found him with a hand against the wall.

"Salazar, are you well?"

"Yes, but I think I'll step outside for a moment." He gave them a weak smile and left the room.

"What was that all about?" Helga asked; once the door squeaked shut.

"Perhaps he's been bitten!" Godric exclaimed, tearing open the door. They could hear his loud footfalls down the hall and Rowena followed him. They stepped out under a cloudy day and found Salazar much improved from moments before.

"You didn't get bitten, did you?" Rowena asked worriedly, and he shook his head, although he looked puzzled.

"No, they didn't even get near enough to try. It was something else, but I'm alright now. Lunch, anyone?"

------------

The cleaning, to contradict what Godric had said earlier, made itself difficult on purpose in more forms than just the doxies. Two months into the summer they were still finding things to repair or some magical or non- magical creature to clear out. Towards the end of the summer Godric decided the building wasn't big enough to house as many people as would be attending classes. Into the many spellbooks the four delved, searching for a way to remedy this. Finally; Rowena found it. It bent the laws of nature, and would expand the inside of the house to hold a bigger volume than it would under normal circumstances. So, with such a spell in hand they began to make rooms for the students. They had one side of the house dedicated to the boys, and the other to the girls.

They finished up the rest of the draperies after the second go of Salazar's strange illness. Helga secretly thought him shirking duty, but she didn't mention it. Nothing like it ever happened when he worked on anything else. So the matter was left to rest, and they focused their minds on more important matters. Rowena drew up the lesson plans, setting them at an easy pace. Salazar spent hours in the magical library, finally deciding on a student booklist. Rowena owled the list off after they duplicated it and then they began the countdown.

------------

It was finally cold enough to start up a fire in the restored fireplace. So once they had a merry blaze going; the four each sat around it in their own armchairs. They sipped hot cocoa and talked of the classes they would begin teaching in two days time. Rowena figured she had to be just about as nervous as the students who would begin arriving tomorrow.

Godric broke the silence, "you know; we haven't named our school. All of the owls we have sent off to parents have no mention of a name."

"_Carpe Incantatem Diem_," Rowena said softly.

"Seize the Day of Magic & Spells," Salazar echoed, and Helga and Godric leaned forward to gaze at the two of them.

"Perfect, that shall be what we call it then," Helga said and took a sip of her cocoa. The words of the prophecy swirled in Rowena's mind, and she closed her eyes. This would be their greatness; this would be how they made their mark. Teaching the young to use what they were born with, that was their calling.

"You know, we never did get all those spores out from under the rugs in the attic." Salazar muttered. A collective groan followed this statement.

------------

Rowena was once again up before the sun, but this time it was not of her own will. Knocking sounded on the door and with a barely concealed grin she snatched a robe, tugged it around her nightdress and tore off down the hall, skidding into the parlour to yank open the door.

"Is this the magical school?" asked an older lady. Two children were standing nervously behind her carrying weighty suitcases.

"Yes indeed it is. Welcome, welcome to Carpe Incantatem Diem!" Rowena said, feeling a power and elation from just saying the name of their school.

All day the students arrived. Salazar was up second and proceeded to greet the students in the living room and lay down the rules.

"This is indeed a magical school, we will be doing magic but you may not use what you learn here on outings in London. The muggles fear the unnatural, and will grow suspicious of devilry within these walls. You may use all kinds of spells within these walls, and only within the walls. Am I clear?"

"Yes, Professor Slytherin." Was the chorus, and once outside the room he paused, glancing back unnoticed.

"Professor...Slytherin?" He whispered to himself, and shook his head. This would indeed take some getting used to.

------------

Godric enjoyed teaching his class from the front of the room, actively participating in his lessons and he loved to make his pupils laugh. His class was by far the loudest, and not a student had negative feelings for the boisterous man. He memorized his lesson plan, gave honest grades and sought to help his students improve the best way he knew how, and that was to make the learning experience fun. In his first week of Transfiguration he had students working on their aim as much as the actual spell. It became a game for his class to do the spell quickest and of the best quality. He awarded sweets to the winner, to push towards perfection.

Rowena's approach was a little different. Just as the other three she saw to her students before anything else, but she would also give hours of her time into helping those perfect new spells. By the end of the week they were racing match boxes in the hall and clacking them down the stairs. She didn't move on until every person had learned the spell selected, and could name its uses and apply it to every day life.

Helga held most of her classes outdoors in the fenced off garden. Students emerged from Botany with filthy hands and smiling faces. They covered all the basic plants, how they grew and all the facts of photosynthesis. Then they went deeper, learning the properties of magical plants and how all of them could be put to use in Salazar's potions class.

Salazar taught a mix of magic, never really settling on just one thing. One week they would do wand-work, next they would be brewing various potions. He was the only Professor they grew to fear, despite the tattered edges of his coats. He didn't fling his hard-earned galleons about on such amenities as nice every-day clothes for the mere logic that in teaching potions they were likely to be ruined before the week was out.

In his second week of teaching, he set in on the banishing spell, Reducto. His best student, Gabriel, was the first to succeed in moving an object with the spell. Salazar, however, was far from satisfied.

"This spell is designed to move an object, any object, from your path. It wasn't created to move a desk, it was created to blow the desk at least ten feet and smash it!"

Gabriel stared at the desk fearfully. "Professor, would that not take a lot of energy?"

"All magic requires energy, but no, not enough so that you would notice it. Watch, he said, and then aimed his wand at the desk. "_Reducto!_" With a bang the desk slammed down, crashing across the polished wooden floor to end up as smithereens against the wall. Several of the students straightened, having cringed at the noise.

"That is how to do the spell properly." Salazar said; his voice soft once more. His students were wide-eyed, and a few were gazing at their wands. A moment later, Amelia stretched her hand into the air.

"Yes?" Salazar addressed her, and she rose.

"So, just as we can do good with these, we can also do evil? We could really hurt someone with that."

"Indeed yes, and very good observation," noted Salazar, moving to sit on his desk. "We Wizards and Witches are gifted, but in these times of strife with the church we are not seen as such. Magic is outlawed--persecuted even. Never underestimate the world in which you live, where we are hated for what we are. It must remain a secret at all costs. You are here to learn how to use your gift to your benefit...and protect yourselves against those who do not understand.

"I will teach you how to defend yourselves, how to repel the fire of the stake should you be revealed. I never wish to see one of our kind killed for something they were born with. I never again want to see one of our kind bound and dragged from their homes, burned for a gift that others hate for the mere words written in a holy book of a vengeful god."

Salazar looked into the eyes of his students, and there he found resolution, acceptance even, of what they were.

"May I try again, Professor?" Gabriel asked, and Salazar waved him up, repaired the desk and set it before him.

"For all those who hate us!" The boy said, and shouted the spell. The desk didn't only crash to the floor and into the wall, it went halfway through the wall and Salazar gave him a rare smile.

"Excellent work, all of you. Class dismissed, we will continue this tomorrow."

They did indeed continue the lesson the following day and with it being such a potentially dangerous spell, Salazar was soon berating himself when the wall was blown outwards into the street. Rowena and Godric burst into the room, Godric soon cursing. Salazar looked out over the edge as the people standing in the streets halted in their daily activity.

"My apologies! We didn't know quite how unstable this wall was!" He backed away from the edge and the stunned expressions of the passers-by. "Godric, this will have to be repaired by hand!" He hissed, pointing at the gigantic hole, light streaming into the classroom.

"I say we make it a window." Rowena said, and the two turned glares at her.

"What?" She demanded, and Salazar let out a sigh.

"Rowena, if we do so every person who walks by will see what we're really doing!"

"Oh, I'm sorry, I grew up in the mountains, far from a Muggle settlement and my whole family was made up of magic-users."

"It matters not, done is done, we'll have to call in a Muggle building mason, I am no good with non-magic repairs," Godric said, running his hand down the side of his auburn beard.

They ended classes early and Godric went out to hunt down their repairman. Rowena explained to the children that not a word of what had really happened or anything out of the ordinary had taken place. She and Salazar donned regular clothing, folding their breeches and robes into a chest and stowing it in a closet to prevent discovery. Helga hadn't bothered with her robes, she didn't favour getting them dirty working in the gardens.

It took a week to repair the wall, and Rowena and Salazar preferred to shut themselves away in their rooms for fear of slipping up on answering the vast amount of questions the Muggles had. Once they were finished with the repairs classes resumed, and London saw its first snowfall of the year. Trips to the market continued, until a younger student brought her wand and hexed a shopkeeper for trifling with her money.

------------

Rowena awoke to the smell of smoke. When she sat up the smell got stronger, and then she heard the screams.

With her alarm mounting Rowena tore from the bed, not even bothering with a robe to cover her nightdress. She burst into the hall to find thick smoke billowing overhead. The crackling of the flames got louder and Salazar burst out of his room.

"GODRIC! HELGA! FIRE! THE HOUSE IS BURNING!"

Rowena didn't stop to shout the alarm with him; she dashed down the stairs and through the parlour, skidding into the childrens' rooms. Before her all the girls slept, blissfully unaware of the looming danger. Behind her the door slammed open once more, Godric flying in. At the noise of the door hitting the wall several of the girls stirred, waking up.

"The school is burning, hurry; we must get out before the fire overtakes the building!" Godric lifted several of the slower girls from their bed and in a flurry of small feet along with his own thundering footsteps they burst, coughing, out into the street. Rowena stumbled on a burnt-out torch, falling to the cobblestones. She looked over her shoulder and watched as the flames soared skyward. A wordless scream escaped her and she was up, running back into the house. Helga and Salazar emerged with the boys, one boy being carried. Outside the screams got louder, and Rowena heard a joint calling of "burn the witches, burn the witches!"

"Rowena, we have them all, come, let us escape while there is still time!" Salazar coughed and Helga pushed her from behind, and they burst once more into the street. Godric had his wand drawn, glaring at a crowd of people rushing at him, screaming for the stake. Rowena drew her wand from a pocket in her nightgown and screamed out a spell, blasting the people back.

"We must escape, Godric, can you Apparate with the children?"

"I can, but can you three?"

"Yes! We must go, an inn, somewhere far away!" Without fully solidifying a plan, escape the first objective, they gathered their students to them, and disappeared from the square with a loud "BANG".

They didn't make it outside the city, having to extend their magic over their students. They all appeared in a large room at an inn, and their students clung to them, many having lost their wands in the fire. Their wands, the most important possession they could own for being what they were.

Salazar slid aside the draperies, staring out over London. The others joined him, watching the flames climb. Not a word was uttered from them or the students as they watched their dreams fade to ash. Finally when nothing but smoke and a tiny flicker of flame could be seen they backed away from the window, and Salazar let the shade slid closed.

"The prophecy lied, we didn't succeed. Our school burns through ignorant hatred!" he said bitterly, and then swore. Godric rested a hand on his shoulder, and Helga gave one last glance at the closed shade. There was nothing they could do, and so they resigned themselves to a sleep haunted by faceless students burning at the stake.

Dawn broke cold and rainy; quenching whatever there was left of the previous night's blaze. Rowena could still smell the smoke within her nightdress. In the back of her mind the fired reigned supreme, blocking out everything else. She could imagine her books going up in smoke, all her translations nothing more than ashes to blow away on the wind. Everyone had escaped, but none of their things except what they wore had survived.

Now the small band of student and professor alike huddled together in silence. Godric sat in an armchair and mulled over the previous events and Helga comforted their students while the occasional tear trickled down her kind face. Salazar sat by the window, staring out into the darkness where the fires had faded hours ago.

Rowena, chest drawn tight with unshed tears, wrapped herself in blankets and stuffed her face in her pillow. Everything had to come to and end; and they should have known, should have foreseen that such as their dreams were, they could never be reality.

------------

Dawn found them already shipping their students back to their homes. Rowena wrote the letters explaining the occurrences and a sincere apology to the parents. Salazar stood in silence over her shoulder as she penned each one.

_Dear Parents of our Students,_

_Our first year of teaching a magical school has come to a bitter end. We were somehow discovered by the Muggles, and as you know Witchcraft is an art highly frowned upon. On January 11 the citizens of London sought to burn us out, to kill the witches. We all escaped the fires unscathed, and realized our error._

_There could be no way to teaching a magical school in Muggle London. My apologies are deep, for we too have lost much in these fires of ignorance. Perhaps someday Witchcraft and Wizardry will not be frowned upon, perhaps even accepted. Now is not that time, and so I send you back your children. Please explain the importance that they utter naught of what they are or what they learned here to anyone. I cannot urge you to do so enough, for you may not be as lucky to escape the fires of hatred._

_Rowena Ravenclaw_

Godric purchased a horse from the locale and bid them farewell, expressing his need to check in on his land and errantry. They all knew he left for the grief of a dream scattered, probably never to be pieced back together. Helga left them for her own home the following day, and they bid her a kind farewell.

Then it was just Rowena who did not wish to return to her home and Salazar who had no home. Only a title; and one that held little weight now. Without a word the two once more donned travellers cloaks and staffs, heading off together tied by their love for knowledge, something they could never forsake, although it seemed to have forsaken them.


End file.
